Smoke To My Eyes
by Liberty SleepStorm
Summary: Shikamaru is losing his grip on his life, and Lady Tsunade gives him the option of whether to keep holding on or to let go. He remains uncertain between making the good choice and the right choice until he meets a person with a more complicated life who, along the way, clarifies his path for him. And it's all thanks to Asuma and the hundred thousand yen check he left her.
1. Prologue

**Smoke To My Eyes**

**By Liberty SleepStorm**

**Summary: **Shikamaru is losing his grip on his life, and Lady Tsunade gives him the option of whether to keep holding on or to let go. He remains uncertain between making the good choice and the right choice until he meets a person with a more screwed up life who, along the way, clarifies his path for him. And it's all thanks to Asuma and the hundred thousand yen check he left her.

**Author's Note: **This is for all the supporters of My Toes, My Knees, My Shoulders, My Head. I can't promise when the updates will be, but I can assure you that the story has progressed within the confines of all my literary works. I promised I'd upload this come 2013, so here it is, to celebrate Shikamaru, Shikaku, and every secondary character that doesn't get the credit they deserve. First OC on this one too. Enjoy!

**Prologue**

"Shikamaru, you might never become a ninja again."

I blinked at the Fifth Hokage, and for a while, that was all I did. My fingers retained their grip on the sleeve of my tunic, which I had been rolling up my left arm when she said those words. My back ached from slouching, but I could not bring myself to straighten up. I dropped my arms, and I twisted my upper body forward to relish the view outside the window.

It was peaceful - so far from the grievance in Lady Tsunade's face.

My consciousness absorbed the news at last, and I said, "Might?"

"Two out of the major chakra artery connected to your spine was disconnected, and three out of the five connected to your heart are crippled," she explained. "I underestimated the opponent you were up against. A four-man squad of chuunins could not have handled what should have been an S-class mission. I take full responsibility for the cost of my negligence."

I took a deep breath, and when I exhaled, the leaves of the nearby hickory swayed. "Has their families been informed?"

"Shikaku organized a meeting with the families," she said. "He's supposed to have told them by now."

"Does dad know?"

"About your condition?"

I nodded at the bird perched on the windowsill.

Her heels rapped against the linoleum, and when I lifted my eyes, she was standing in front of me with her arms crossed beneath her sagging breasts. Slowly, her arms unfolded, and she reached her hand out to grip my shoulder. "I need you to listen to me very carefully, Shikamaru. Your present condition is reversible. Your chances of getting back to normal with surgery are little, and I won't lie to you, but even your chances of survival will be very small. _However_, with the right people and with the right preparation, we _might_ be successful."

I stared at her, noticing how brown her eyes truly were even when she stood against the light. There lay many layers to the emotion she allowed herself to exhibit in front of me. The first was firmness, in order for me to believe in the conviction of her words. Second was sympathy, for me to know she was on my side. Third lay kindness, for me to realize I had only two options here – to live or to die – but either would make me no less of a person.

"Shikamaru, are you listening?"

I pulled the sleeve over my shoulder and buttoned the tunic down. "You haven't told dad. Thanks. I'll…I'll find the right time."

"File a charge against me."

I shivered and, finally, an emotion melted the rigidness of the muscles in my face. I felt my brows furrow and the corners of my lips slump, and I was confused and angry all at once. "A charge against you, Lady Tsunade? _Why_?"

She didn't move. She didn't look at me. "Nanami, Jin, and Toya were dismembered by a criminal whom I knew at the back of my head is an opponent even Kakashi would have trouble hitting with his kunai without the use of his sharingan. Your survival is a miracle, truly, and if you decide not to proceed with the surgery, your best chance of making the most out of your untimely retirement will be to sue me."

"So what? I can leech money from Konoha's treasury in order to live a comfortable life?"

She closed her eyes and shook her head. "In order to establish yourself in the years you won't even be admitted to the Intelligence Division of Konoha's military forces because the damage done to your channels will constantly be sending abnormal amounts of serotonin, dopamine, and every other vital chemicals to your brain."

"You mean I'll be so unstable that I won't even be able to…t-to think right?"

"Yes."

My lips dried, and they parted with a lasting sting. I gaped at the view outside the window again.

The Academy bell rang. I heard the clangor of the large, double doors as they opened, and I pictured myself racing Choji to the classroom. I usually slowed my pace on purpose to let him catch up to me, and most days, I even let him win.

My eyes descended to my bandaged left ankle, and I admitted, "I do not understand."

Lady Tsunade sighed deeply. "Maybe you should stay in the hospital another day to think about all this."

"Mum is waiting for me at home."

"You're disoriented, Shikamaru," she insisted. "A mother will know immediately that something is wrong - unless you do plan on telling your parents right away?"

"S-should I?"

"It all depends on you."

It depended on me. This whole thing depended on me. Thing. Why couldn't I give it a proper name? What name would suit it? Dilemma? Injury? Crisis? I could not choose, more so could I identify what I really felt about the matter. Perhaps I was in shock, for my body was still enjoying this numbing sensation.

I grabbed my cane and I hauled myself up to stand. Lady Tsunade watched me. I bowed my head as I limped past her and towards the door. It was so far from me. I took my time limping, and for a moment, my mind mistook my body for a turtle. A turtle – yes, a turtle. My back shouldered a house as hard as fifty shells, and inside that house, within the gloom and solitude, there were decisions to be made.

After all, _it_ depended on _me_.

"Shikamaru," the Fifth called when I pushed the door open. My feet dragged to a halt.

She said, "I am very sorry."

I nodded at the floor. "Yeah. I guess it's okay."

The hospital corridors passed me instead of me passing them. The speed of the wheelchairs, nurses, and doctors made this elongated box of passageways appear mobile, and even while my feet inched forward, I was barely moving. Somehow, despite this trance, I made it to the main lobby and out the glass doors.

The stench of antiseptic drifted from my nostrils as I climbed down the steps, and once I was on level ground I looked ahead, at the long road I had to travel in order to get home.

Home. Was that where I wanted to be?

"Shikamaru!"

I glanced back and I saw Sakura jogging towards me. She didn't even pause to catch her breath. Instead, she stopped beside me and went on to say, "Do you want a wheelchair? Your house is awfully far."

Peering behind her for any sign of the Hokage, I replied, "Nah. People will look and ask questions. It's too troublesome to explain."

She threw her hands to her waist and scrutinized my face. "You all right? You don't sound like your usual self."

"Is my usual self a lot less lazy?"

"Probably."

I shrugged my right shoulder. "I grow old. Everybody does."

Sakura wrinkled her nose. "Good luck to your future wife and children."

"I'll tell them you wished them the best of luck."

"I do, in all sincerity." She crouched and poked my bandaged ankle. "I can heal this, you know. Just a strain, right? How come Lady Tsunade hadn't healed this for you? I thought she was personally handling your recovery?"

Too many questions. I planted my cane forward and started walking. "My teammates died," I muttered. "It's a rather simple reminder compared to what they went through."

She fell silent, and I was washed with relief that she had the mind to leave me alone.

Sakura grabbed my wrist and lifted my arm. I gasped, unusually nervous for a shinobi of my rank, and watched her put my arm around her shoulder. She held my waist and forced most of my weight on her. I groaned and told her there was no need to help me, to which her only reply was that she had once worked with Nanami and Toya also.

The travel become lighter, and although people glanced our way and common acquaintances inquired about my health, I had her to lie for me.

Now I was no longer a turtle…but a snail. Just a snail with a tiny shell.

"I watched the jounin exams," she said, grinning. "I'm so glad I chose to take the latter exams. You were really different in the field that day."

I smiled back and poked the sliding door sideways with my cane. It opened a gap enough for one person to enter, but neither Sakura nor I moved when a popping sound burst the silence, and confetti erupted in the air.

"Congratulations, Shikamaru!" hollered the crowd in the hall.

I recognized mum in the frontline of the crowd; standing beside her was Ino and Choji. Dad leaned on the wall with his arms folded across his chest and an apologetic smile directed at me. Kiba, Akamaru, and TenTen wave at me from the stairs, and I spotted Rock Lee grinning at me with his thumbs up. Naruto stumbled out of the kitchen with icing spilling from his mouth, and he mumbled his congratulations.

Sakura shook my free hand. "Hey, I nearly forgot! The results came out! Congratulations! You passed the jounin exams!"


	2. Chapter 1

**Smoke to My Eyes**

**By Liberty SleepStorm**

**Chapter One **

I didn't leave the house.

The surprise party left me trembling in my bed at night, and not because they scared me but because I scared myself.

Mum had cooked two of my favorite dishes; only two because the rest, she said, which were mostly sandwiches and spreads, were not befitting the celebration. Choji absolutely enjoyed the buffet and he had a contest with Naruto and Kiba on who could stuff the most rice balls in their mouth and swallow the quickest.

Ino and Sakura confided with each other in a corner, sharing a plate of cake and pasta. TenTen oftentimes joked about the missions I was bound to handle as a jounin, which caught the attention of the male shinobis in the room. Their inquiries on her about the details of Neji's endeavors salvaged me from having to narrate the difficulty of the jounin exams all over again, and a while of this story-telling apparently allowed me a peaceful escape to the garden, away from the feast and the happiness that was not mine to own.

And yet I was not totally disturbed that time.

If, at all, the worst I felt was alone, and being alone was completely fine with me.

Of course, at times like those, it was not advisable to be left to linger in one's own thoughts. My silent pondering led me to the realization that I wasn't even in despair of my tragedy, and five days later, to this moment, I still wasn't.

It was like the throbbing of my strained left ankle…it was a pain I deserved. The grave injury to my chakra channels was a harm I deserved and losing my job as a Hidden-Leaf shinobi did not even count as a loss.

To me, at least, it did not seem so.

I blew out smoke rings and watched grey clouds rise from the cigarette butt. The wind carried them outside the open window and the scent drifted from my room. Sitting up, I grazed the end of the cigarette on the porcelain ashtray and dropped it to join the ten others I had consumed earlier today.

My lungs were warm when I inhaled and warmer still when I exhaled. I loved this sensation; it put my mind at ease. I wondered if this was why Asuma liked to smoke a lot. Was the comfort this great that he couldn't last two minutes without a cigarette between his lips? I thought I might try chewing tobacco next.

A shadow loomed across my bedroom floor, filling the elongated illumination of the window that I had been staring at for the last five hours of the morning.

"Shikamaru Nara," said the voice.

Too comfortable to alter my position, I slid my upper body to the left of my bed in order to see the ANBU. I had to be as polite as possible. "This is he," I replied.

The bird mask stared back at me. "You had an appointment with the Hokage an hour ago. She demands that you come to her office this instant."

My eyes roamed the room for a clock. I remembered I had thrown them under the bed the day I decided never to use alarm clocks, and now I regretted being so disdainful of them. It was too much effort lifting my arm to peek at my wristwatch.

"What time is it?"

"It's time for you to get up, boy," he stretched his legs to the floor one at a time and then walked to my bedside. "My orders are to escort you to her office, so unless you move now, we'd be spending each of your lazy moment together in this mess you call your room."

I lifted my head to glimpse the plates and cans of sodas lying about. "Your orders are to escort me, not to lecture me."

He didn't respond.

I folded my body upwards with a groan and I slapped my cheeks. Once blood was flowing to my head properly, I scooted to the edge of the mattress and slogged to my closet. All I found inside were white tunics with varying sleeve lengths, three pieces of green turtlenecks, and five pieces of blue sweaters.

I tried to spot any of my usual black shirts but found none.

My intellectual side reminded me that I had stuffed them in one of my travel bags, and that travel bag might be gathering algae at the bottom of Konoha River or traveling with the wind as ashes by now…whichever method of discarding I thought was coolest in my drunken state yesterday.

I reached out for a blue sweatshirt and put it on. My muscles whined. I suppressed the urge to flinch because I was sure that was what this damn ANBU looked forward to the most.

Slipping on my slippers, I redid my ponytail and nodded at him. "I'll meet you in front of the house."

He gave my appearance a once over but did not comment. "Have to convince your mother to extend your curfew?"

"Nah…I have until midnight before she starts to panic." I gathered a handful of incense from my desk, stuffed them in an empty mug, and lit them with a lighter. "I'm serious. I'll meet you out front. If that mask hasn't dimmed your eyesight, you'll notice I have a strained ankle."

He climbed the windowsill and twisted around. "Leave the door first."

I emptied the ashtray into a garbage bag and pitched it to the very back of my closet. Waving my hands in the air to spread the fragrance of the incense, I begged him not to close the window, and then I left my room.

I waited outside for a couple of seconds to listen to any sound, just to make sure he followed my instruction. If mum discovered that I was smoking again, she would purposely make all our meals too spicy to be edible, at least, for Shikaku and I, which would cause him to punish me by signing me up to reorganize the books in Konoha's military library. The gist of this punishment was the fact that smoking was not allowed inside the library, and reorganizing the hundreds of books in those hundreds of shelves required the minimum of seventeen days to accomplish…if you worked at it with inhuman speed.

In my current condition, Shikaku knew I would need the entire ten months of the following year to finish.

I descended the staircase quietly and didn't look back to see where mum could be in the house. My lies would, therefore, be reduced to the simple matter of a presumption that she was busy in the scullery, and no one in our family dared to bother her when she was in the scullery.

Exiting the door was the most challenging thing I had yet to do since I left the hospital. The sunlight burned my toes the moment it hit them, and my face tightened in shame. I felt too exposed, beyond naked, exceeding muscle and bone.

The strangers passing the street sniggered when they saw me. The mothers whispered to each other about the jounin who only left his house after five days because he had been too afraid to be interrogated on his future.

I heard a little boy cry and I found him on the middle of the street, holding his knee.

The children around him refused to help him. Instead, they huddled and gossiped about the man whose injuries were beyond a scraped knee. They said it was about time I quit trying to be something I was not.

Looking up, I saw a fat cloud shield the sun, casting claw-like shadows over the street. The shadow destroyed the sniggering strangers, the whispering mothers, and the mocking children. The ANBU stepped into view and gripped my shoulder. He shook me awake.

The crying boy vanished.

"It's empty," I muttered, panting. "The street is empty."

"What are you saying?"

I yanked free from the ANBU and I stuttered something about making it to the Hokage's office as quick as we could.

Paranoia convinced me to keep my head down as we maneuvered past the stream of villagers in the main road. The babel of shop owners and customers highlighted the cacophony of voices. Shoulders bumped. Feet overlapped. Apologies flew. In the midst of this confusion, all my ears could process were the words that paranoia captured for me to wallow in.

Never. Be. A. Ninja.

Come. Enter. Retirement.

Don't. Risk. Life.

A young lady donning a yellow bandana tiptoed on the sidewalk and pasted a poster on the electric post. It was vibrant with blue and red splotches of paint, and the slogan read 'capture your time. Have your portrait painted.' Beside her poster was a loose sheet of yellow paper with an announcement about a job opening in a café in the southern districts of Konoha. The lady plucked it out and stuffed it in the pocket of her denim overalls.

I stripped my eyes from the paper. There was no need to be interested in job openings. I had a job. I was a shinobi – a jounin ranking shinobi.

The crowd loosened and I stopped gasping for air. The ANBU waited for me on the stairs of the Hokage Tower. I jogged towards him, not because I was embarrassed of my speed, but because I needed my ankles to hurt enough so that I never forget, even for a second, my deceased teammates.

Perhaps there was no other choice but for me to retire…so what? Nanami, Jin, and Toya were never given an option. They just died.

The ANBU announced my presence before pushing open the double doors of the Fifth's office. Lady Tsunade's pen scraped the paper of the scroll she was writing in. She mumbled something that I could not comprehend from where I stood at the back of the room, but I could guess that she ordered the ANBU to leave, because he disappeared in a puff of white mist without warning.

The second we were alone, she lifted her eyes and she flicked her forefinger to make me approach.

I dragged my injured leg to remind her I was in bad health, and her upcoming scolding would not help in any way.

"Stop acting like a damaged puppy," she yapped. "You're not gaining my sympathy – not anymore."

I shifted my weight to my good leg as soon as I was standing in front of her desk. "I wasn't going for sympathy; something between delicate lecturing and less repetition of the obvious would summarize the point of my limping."

Lady Tsunade rolled the scroll and sealed it with a jutsu. She paused. She sniffed. "You reek of cigarette smoke."

"This is where we inject the less repetition of the obvious."

"You missed your first two appointments in the hospital," she said. "And did you expect me to send someone to deliver your medicines to you?"

"Delicate lecturing, ma'am."

"I'm happy you are still clever enough to realize you are need of a lot of lecturing." Rising to her feet, she fished out a black notebook from beneath a heap of documents and flipped through the pages. "Monday – all you did was sleep. Tuesday, you slept, you finally ate, and then you stared at your shogi board all day. Wednesday – you finished two boxes of cigarettes and refused to leave your room. Thursday – you persuaded Choji to buy you three casings of beer and then forced him to leave. He came back with Ino in the evening but you did not even meet them in your front door. Friday – you finished the last casing of beer at midnight, left your house, and then dumped a travel bag in the Konoha River. Shikamaru, what's inside the bag?"

I slapped my forehead. "So I did drown that bag!"

"Shikamaru!"

"Clothes," I said and shrugged. "All my green and black camouflage with maybe some ten pieces of kunai and ready-made explosive tags. Oh, no worries! I didn't use permanent ink, so they're probably smudged and disarmed by now."

Lady Tsunade was still. She flattened her hands on her desk and frowned at me. "Why would you discard your equipments?"

I tucked my hands in my pockets and shrugged again. "Why would you have an ANBU spy on me?"

"You're in a withdrawal, Shikamaru."

"That does not justify your invasion of my privacy!"

"I have given you your privacy!" she shrieked. "I have not told anybody about your predicament! I have given you options! I have granted you a pace of your own! What the fuck are you doing with your life?"

My body quivered but I was not cold. Sweat lingered along my jaws. "Well, ma'am, my choice of timing doesn't really give me an opportunity to alter what my family and friends' reactions will be. Whether I told them during that stupid celebration party or choose to postpone the shocking news until tomorrow will not stop them from feeling bad for me, from asking me what I will do with my life from here onwards, and from thinking I'm such a pathetic man with only a brain who will always be the one 'who used to be'."

"_Who used to be_?" she hissed, and her lips pursed. "Retirement is not your only option here. Do you think I prescribed all those drugs to you if I've given up hope of curing you? Do you think so little of me that I would spy on you for no valid reason? Or that I'm doing this all out of guilt?"

A chuckle bubbled in my throat and it escaped before I could swallow it. "The surgery? You want to place me on that table knowing that my chances of surviving are as little as the chances of Romi's arm growing back?"

Lady Tsunade scoffed as she collapsed back to her chair. "Romi? You're still upset that Sakura had to amputate Romi's arm to save him from being crushed in that mine?"

Her mocking tone made the blood in my cheeks burn. "I was the one who ordered him to go inside that mine. It was my call, and my call cost him his arm, and later his job, and later his fiancé."

She rolled her eyes. "If his fiancé really loved him, she wouldn't have left him just because he can't be a shinobi anymore."

"His being a shinobi is the only reason her family accepted him!" I retorted. "That was all Romi had! Now he lives with his parents without a clue on how to get back up on his feet!"

"Oh, I see! You intend to follow his example?"

"Don't you have the tiniest care for him?"

"Romi's attending rehabilitation, and the last I checked with Shizune, he's doing great."

I hastened to the nearest chair, plopped down, and crossed my arms and my legs. "Fine. I'll attend your rehabilitation program, and you can expect me to do better than every other shinobi there, because unlike them, I still have four limbs!"

The double doors split open and Sakura stumbled inside, spilling the tower of books in her arms. Sakura froze and the three of us in the room watched as one last book toppled on the floor.

"Problem solved," I broke the silence. "Now that she knows, maybe she can spread the news and save me the trouble of having to explain the technicalities. You're familiar with channel and artery disconnection, aren't you, Sakura?"

She stood straight and scowled. "I-I wasn't intending to tell anyone," she stammered. "I didn't intend to overhear."

"I'll give you three days, Shikamaru," Lady Tsunade tented her fingers and looked me straight in the eyes. "Tell your mother and father within that period, or else I will be forced to eliminate you from my regiment on the grounds of breaking five of the rules in our shinobi rule of conduct and for disobeying direct commands from your supreme commander, and I will have Suna remove your name from the awarding ceremony twenty days from now. It will be a dishonorable discharge, so you better pour all your sober energy on the thought that the man 'who used to be' will then become 'he who fucked up'."

I gritted my teeth until my jaws were numb. My fingernails dipped into my palm and my skin embraced every curve of my knucklebones. Sakura's gaze pressed on me. "Three days."

"Shikamaru," Sakura hissed. "Think about surgery. We can do that, can't we, Lady Tsunade?"

"If one thing goes wrong, he dies," she said.

I stood. Sakura closed the double doors. "Mr. Kazuma Kakihara!"

The Hokage and I exchanged a glance. "What?"

"Kazuma Kakihara!" she repeated, expecting us to understand this time. When no one responded to her, she said, "The medic you dumped twenty years ago, Lady Tsunade! Isn't he the author of the case study about chakra channels and the six chakra arteries that connect to our spine? It's his specialty! What if we can have him assist you in Shikamaru's surgery?"

My throat tightened and suddenly, I was patient. I waited for the Hokage to say something.

_Say something, Lady Tsunade._

Her expression changed from anger to uncertainty. "He's…not in Konoha, Sakura."

"Well, summon him!" Sakura smiled at me and then marched to her desk. "C'mon, Lady Tsunade! I'll go! Ino and Choji will accompany me for sure! We can't lose Shikamaru! He's the best brains Konoha has had since…well, since Mr. Shikaku!"

I felt myself smile.

Lady Tsunade cupped her face. "No."

"What?" I yelped.

"No," she said again, louder. "Kazuma Kakihara has been excommunicated. I'm sorry."

Sakura slammed her hand on the table. A bank of paperwork spilled over the Fifth's work, but either of the two noticed. "Pardon him!" she said.

"He purposely risked the life of ten patients in our hospital in order to test the hypothesis he used in his case study!" She swung her chair towards me. "You will tell your parents about your condition in the next three days, Shikamaru, but you also tell them I've already started studying about the surgery. While I am preparing my team and myself, you will diligently take your medicines, participate in recreation, attend your check-ups, and then seek counsel from the people who loves you about whether you will proceed with the surgery or not. Are we clear, Shikamaru? Do we have a deal?"

Sakura turned her head towards me and she mouthed, 'say yes' over and over.

My lungs were cold. I reached for a cigarette in my pocket and put it between my lips. "I'll think about it."


	3. Chapter 2

**Smoke To My Eyes**

**By Liberty SleepStorm**

**Summary: **Shikamaru is losing his grip on his life, and Lady Tsunade gives him the option of whether to keep holding on or to let go. He remains uncertain between making the good choice and the right choice until he meets a person with an even scewed up life who, along the way, clarifies his path for him. And it's all thanks to Asuma and the hundred thousand yen check he left her.

* * *

**Chapter Two**

The clangor of the swing set's chains reminded me of my younger years, when Shikaku still had to fetch me from the playground. During those days, he admonished me to cherish my childhood because I would have to attend the academy soon, and life would drift from the game of tag to the game of survival.

When asked what the difference between the two was, his response was that the latter required more serious effort.

That was enough to make me dread becoming a shinobi.

The swing beside me squeaked. I plucked the cigarette from my mouth, exhaled smoke, and turned to see who my company was.

Choji wiggled his butt between the metal chains and squeezed downwards to sit himself.

I leaned back to get a better view of his progress. "Uh, Choji, the swing is too small for adults."

He paused to inspect the distance of the metal chair's frame to my hip. "You fit just fine, Shikamaru."

I motioned to my loose sweatshirt. "I lost weight."

"Ah."

He yanked himself out of the swing and stumbled forward. I reached out and grabbed the hem of his shirt to stop him from falling face-first on the sand. Once he was standing on both feet, he grinned and thanked me.

"Welcome." I coughed. "Why aren't you on a mission?"

He sat in front of me and tore open a pack of chips. He tossed a handful into his mouth. "Cuz-"

"Chew and swallow, friend."

He tipped his head back to aid his swallowing. "Ino's still scouting for a third man to go with us on our mission, and she's looking for a handsome one this time."

I chuckled. "She and that Nobutoshi guy finally broke up?"

"For good?" he snickered. "If Ino accomplishes her goal to get a jounin for a boyfriend, then maybe Nobutoshi will finally lose his chance…unless he gets promoted."

"That pervert will never pass the jounin exams."

"I hear he only passed the chuunin exams because most of the judges that day were female."

"What's so handsome about him anyway?" I said. "I don't see how he can sleep with half the women in our rank and still be respected. Are his superiors aware of his reputation?"

The shadow of a curvaceous woman appeared beside mine, and I sucked at the cigarette to unnerve myself. It did not work. I jumped on my seat when Ino slipped her arms around my neck and proped her chin on the crown of my head. "How about I answer that after you tell me why men are so judgmental?" she said.

Choji crumpled the chips' plastic wrapper. "Men are not judgmental, Ino. It's a fact that Nobutoshi is…well…Shikamaru, back me up!"

"He's practicing harlotry, Ino."

She tightened her embrace on my neck. "He has a healthy sexual appetite, is all!"

"Exactly the essence of practicing harlotry!" I slapped her arms. "I'm cho-o-king!"

"Take it back!"

I spat the cigarette and motioned for Choji to grab Ino. He shook his head while he chewed, but I tacitly bribed him to barbeque, and he finally stood.

Ino hooked my head with the nook of her elbow and pointed at him. "Don't you dare move!"

"Choji-" I gasped for air. "- best friend choking!"

He approached her from the side and gripped her shoulders.

"You still owe me for setting you up with Nanami, Choji!" She yapped. "Stay back!"

I stopped slapping her arm. I stopped gasping for air. I stared at the setting sun, and I felt Nanami's blood go cold on my face. Nobody else knew she was dead.

"He's turning blue, Ino! Let go! Let Go!"

She removed her arm and leaned my head back. She tapped my cheeks. "Shikamaru!"

I blinked at her. "You were trying to kill me."

"Yeah, I was, but…" Pinching my cheeks, she whispered, "You really aren't going to take back that insult on Nobu, were you?"

Choji nodded on my behalf. "You deserve someone better."

"I thought I already told you guys that he's not a bad man, he's just lost and he needs a partner who will guide him!"

The tip of her ponytail tickled my upper lip. I blew it away. "Ino," I said and pulled myself up through the chains of the swing. "You've been on the project of changing Nobutoshi for two years, and where has that gone? You're still broken hearted and he's still hanging out at the pubs in the southern districts, targeting women who are stupid enough to get into bed with him."

"Yeah, Ino, plus that offer he made you makes him a bigger jerk than he already is."

"Choji!"

I stood and turned around to face them. Ino's sudden stillness swarmed my mind with anxiety. The quivering of her pupils as she stared at the ground delayed my question. "What offer?" I asked, finally.

Choji raised his hands in the air. "I swear I so happen to be in the same restaurant and incredible near your table-"

"Shut up!" she hissed.

I folded my arms across my chest.

Ino rolled her eyes. "Stay out of it, Shikamaru. He had too much to drink because he was depressed about his mission, and I was forcing him to go to our councilor for help. He meant none of the things he said to me. Besides, why should I explain myself to you? And why are you so critical about his conduct when you're the one who's been smoking and drinking for the past week and shutting Choji and I like we're some distant relative whom you don't want to see until the holidays?"

"I'm so fucking critical on that trash because he's turning you into his little play thing!"

"Little play thing?" She shoved me. "Why don't you say it aloud, Shikamaru? You think I've turned into a whore?"

Choji interjected himself between us, but I sidestepped and seized her shoulders. I shook her. "Wake up! If you keep hanging out with him that's exactly what you'll be – a shinobi by day and a whore at night! You think you're willpower is unflinching and your virtues so resolute that you can stay by his side without picking up one or two of his moves? And don't you compare me to him when all I am doing is caring for a friend who is stupid enough to believe there is any hope for a man who has fallen into the abyss of his own, personal atrocity!"

Ino swung her fist to my face. A force pulled me back until I hit the swing set's pole, sparing me from her punch. Choji was fast as he circled his arms around Ino to stop her from attacking me.

"Let go, Choji!" she screamed while kicking the sand.

I slid down, openly wincing because of the fresh bump at the back of my head. He had thrust me too hard, and though I was salvaged from a broken nose, I did sport an injury that the Hokage would question during my next check-up.

Glimpsing the trees surrounding the playground, I decided my pondering was futile. The ANBU would be reporting this to her before I could even rise to my feet.

Ino kicked sand to my face, and some prick my eyes before my lids could scroll down to protect them. I rubbed them, feeling tears on my lashes at my unspoken pain.

"You asshole!" she shrieked. Her struggle slowed, and she gradually came to a halt. She looked me from head to toe, and through the constant blurring of my vision due to tears, I noticed the anger melt from her gaze and transform into confusion. "What is wrong with you, Shikamaru? What happened? Choji and I try to be normal with you, but if you're not avoiding us, you're irate about something!"

"I was telling you the truth, Ino," I said. "Somebody had to tell you sooner or later, and I don't regret one word of the truth. Don't cry now, Ino. It's not like you're so innocent. Based on what I heard from Inoichi, you've been sneaking back to your room in the morning and acting so glum lately."

When Ino opened her mouth to retort, Choji carried her around so she was no longer facing me. "C'mon, Ino, we're going home. There's no use talking to him right now. C'mon, let's go. Don't listen to any of his nonsense!"

"You're such a good friend, Choji!" I hollered at their departing figure. "That's right, tell her I'm wrong and support that Nobutoshi jerk!"

"Is that his full name, son?"

My head snapped to the right, and I my brain registered the silhouette of the man against the sunset as Shikaku. Adrenaline flooded my bloodstream, but I try to act cool as I lean back on the metal pole. "It should be his full name. Suits him. So you've been eavesdropping on my friends and I, dad? Thought you said that was against your principle. Wait, let me give you a good guess: Ino and Choji left because you showed yourself, didn't you? Your scars have always freaked out some of my childhood friends."

Shikaku stopped beside me. He kicked my outstretched leg. "Get up."

"I have a concussion. I can't get up."

"You don't use your head to stand."

I shrugged. "Not literally."

He was quiet. For all the times he would stand so near without saying a word just to break my wit with anxiety, I still could not muster enough calm to disappoint. My jaws throbbed, aching for another cigarette, but I dared not smoke in front of him.

"I'll make this easy for you, Shikamaru," he said, at last. "I know something happened before you went home to us from the hospital last Sunday, and I've been patiently waiting for you to speak up. You're past the age where I have to ask you if you failed the Academy's final exams before you admit it. For crying out loud, you're eighteen, son. I've left you to your vices long enough. Tell me what happened. Right now, Shikamaru."

All cares departed from me, and I grabbed another cigarette and light it. "My major chakra channels are screwed. My chakra arteries are disconnected. The Hokage said the surgery to attempt to fix me is a gamble between life and death. The only man who can raise my chances of survival by one percent has been excommunicated by Konoha several years ago. My damage sends unstable amount of chemicals to my brain, leaving me disoriented or stupid half the time. I am to be awarded as a jounin twenty days from now. How the fuck am I supposed to tell you and mum that your only son will be living with you for the rest of his life, hoping he dies before you do?" The mocking curled my tongue short, and I pressed my lips together to stop myself. Folding my legs up, I leaned my forehead on my knee and swallowed my sobs.

I would not cry, I told myself, but the more I meditated on this, the stronger my shuddering became. The headache sped to the front lobes of my brain and crashed, the explosion carrying a sting to the back of my eyes. "It's not even the shame or the untimely retirement that makes me want to hurt myself! In fact, I'm so glad this joke is finally over! If I hadn't become a shinobi in the first place – which I never desired of being – Nanami, Toya, and Jin never would have died! Rommi would never have lost his arm! Those people who died on my watch would still be in active duty, serving Konoha!"

I felt Shikaku wrap his arm around my head, and his other arm around my body. He held me tight, as if he was wrestling me, but he didn't hurt me at all. He took the cigarette from my fingers and grazed it on the sand.

Then…nothing.

I cried, and he remained quiet. He held me, but he did not punch me like I wanted him to. He punched the ground instead, and said, like every parent in this situation was required to say, that their deaths were not my fault, and that everything would be better.

I clutched his chuunin vest and bobbed my head in agreement to his lies.

"It's all right son," he croaked. "I'm here, son."


	4. Chapter 3

**Smoke To My Eyes**

**By Liberty SleepStorm**

**Summary: **Shikamaru is losing his grip on his life, and Lady Tsunade gives him the option of whether to keep holding on or to let go. He remains uncertain between making the good choice and the right choice until he meets a person with an even scewed up life who, along the way, clarifies his path for him. And it's all thanks to Asuma and the hundred thousand yen check he left her.

**Chapter Three **

The kitchen door was not thick enough.

Shikaku's muttering was partly clear no matter the thoughts I filled my head with. I could imagine him holding mum's hand, mouthing each word carefully, delivering the news in the briefest manner possible. He hated beating around the bush, and even though he sometimes needed to for the sake of the soft hearted, he made sure to minimize the dilly-dallying and give people multiple heart attacks by blurting out his point.

Thankfully, my ears picked up none of mum's responses.

I hunched lower on my seat and stared harder at the chip on the floor. It had been Shikaku's idea for me to sit in the living room while he broke the news to mum. On our way home, I had debated subtly whether it was best to handle it this way, because I would hate for mum to think I was muted by depression, hence I had no choice but to pass on the difficult task to dad.

However, Shikaku had confessed that he did not think me strong enough to be composed in front of mum, and having me breakdown midway would only engulf her with panic.

Twenty years together, and he still could not figure out how to handle mum in these situations.

My foot tapped an idle rhythm on the floor to prevent me from hearing the sounds resonating from the adjacent room. I rubbed the stubble on my jaws and wondered when the last time I shaved was.

The kitchen door slid open. I jumped to my feet and wiped my sweaty palms on my trousers.

Mum appeared with a silver tray containing her favourite porcelain tea set. It is a wedding gift, she once told me, and she only used it on special occasions.

She told me to sit down. I sat. She put down the tray on the coffee table between us and sat opposite me. "You had a fight with Ino and Choji today."

I peered at the kitchen door, wondering why Shikaku had to include that masterpiece of mine . "Yeah. It was my fault."

She poured honey tea on my cup first. "When do you plan to apologize?"

",,,Soon."

"I called Choza," she said, and poured tea in her cup. "Choji will be here in an hour."

"Mum – "

"The sooner you resolve this, the easier our next step will be." She dropped her hands on her lap and looked directly into my eyes. "He and Ino are departing for a mission tomorrow, according to your father, so in case anything happens, you don't regret being such a big bad bully to your closest friends."

I lowered my head and forced myself to nod.

She sniffed. "Tell me about the surgery."

"…It can kill me, for starters."

"I'm sure that's not all Lady Tsunade told you."

I scratched the back of my ear. "She's studying and preparing herself and a team of hers on how to raise the chances of my survival...uhm, and the guy who sort of made a case study about my injury has long been excommunicated, so seeking him for help is kinda illegal? I-I don't know the proper term for it…"

"What treatment did she prescribe to you in the meanwhile?"

"There's uh, these recreational programs to assess the damage done to me during the mission, and some drugs to fix the-the chemical imbalance in my brain."

She reached for my hand and swiped her thumb across my knuckles. Her gaze wandered around the room as she searched for her next question. "Did it, or will it, cause you any physical or mental abnormalities? Disabilities? Will it morph into a disease or…something?"

The ring of concern in her small voice brought back the sting in my eyes. "Sorry, mum, I-I can't answer that." I chuckled and shrugged. "It hasn't really occurred to me to ask the Fifth about any side-effects."

"Drink your tea."

I used my free hand to grab my cup. The porcelain emanated the heat to my skin, and my wariness was stolen by this quick, physical discomfort. "Where's dad?"

She tucked her stray bangs behind her ear. "He needs a while to himself, Shikamaru. Your dilemma, it…how do I say this?" she glimpsed the kitchen, leaned forward, and whispered, "It broke his heart. You're his only son,"

I took a swig of my tea. "H-he made the broken heart thing pretty obvious."

She smirked. "You saw him cry?"

"No…he was…he was hugging me too tight for me to move my head a centimeter."

Mum laughed so hard she started to cry. "The last time your father's been this way was the day I gave birth to you, and for a whole minute after you came out of my womb…I died."

My lips parted, and I stopped breathing as I watched her wipe her eyes. "Y-you died, mum?"

"It was quick," she said, quietly. "I saw my dead body on that bed, and I saw Shikaku run to me and embrace me. Perhaps all I was in that entire minute was a spirit, but even then I still felt the heat of his body, and the chill of his tears as they dripped to my face. It was Inoichi who pulled him away from me so the doctors could revive me. When I returned to my body, the first thought that hit me was that your father loves me more than he let show. I even remember him being afraid to go near you and I, thinking that he'd only bring us harm. It took me an entire week to convince him that it was safe for him to carry you in his arms. 'You won't drop him, Shikaku', I'd yell. Even then, he only carried you eight times when you were an infant, but still he feels, right now, that he had somehow dropped you, and he cannot take your damage back."

I buried my face in my hands and shook my head, trying but failing to suppress the outpouring of my grief. This wasn't Shikaku's fault. He wasn't the man who stabbed me so badly. I bawled these thoughts, but my continuous sniveling kept my words from comprehension.

Mum scooted her chair forward and leaned my head on her lap. "The both of you are so alike," she cooed. "He thinks he could have saved you from this if he hadn't talked you into becoming a shinobi like him, and you think you're so depressed because of your teammate's deaths and not because of your personal loss of career. You see, Shikamaru, both of you are wrong. I can tell. And the thing that makes it the more painful is that neither of you can acknowledge the truth that this is out of your control. But you have choices to make, son. You can accept that you were an excellent shinobi who was entrusted to lead missions that you and your teammates know requires sacrifice on all degrees. Nanami, Toya, and Jin, if they have lived, would never have pointed their finger at you to blame you, the same way Shikaku thinks you are blaming him."

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are not," she agreed. "Shikamaru, you have to listen and to understand, that I am telling you this so that if you cannot think yourself worthy of a future of happiness and fulfillment, you can make your father the recipient of your efforts."

I resorted to silence, and I took note of the faltering of my headache. Mum let me remain in my position until I could let go of her, and when I saw her face again, I realized this conversation was my turning point.

Once I was composed enough to stand, mum instructed me to sleep on the couch, and in the morning, to clean my bedroom. I was to apologize to Ino before she left Konoha for her mission, and I would meet them in the Hokage's office at eight in the morning to discuss the courses we could undertake.

I hinted that I could meet with the Fifth on my own, but she said it was Shikaku's idea for us to hear and decide on our options as a family. Mum explained that they did not think me too unwell to head for my own downfall, but their presence simply implied that I needed their counsel now more than ever.

Mum kissed my forehead and excused herself, saying she has to find Shikaku before his feet led him to a pub.

I was alone in the house when the doorbell rang. Stealing a can of soda in the refrigerator, I jogged to the door and opened it. Choji stood outside, holding out the same can of soda.

We exchanged.

"…Thanks for coming."

"No big deal, man."

"Listen," I said and cleared my throat. "I'm sorry about earlier. I'm sorry for venting on you and Ino…and-"

Choji hit his soda against mine. "Cheers?"

I sniggered, and I lifted my tin can. "Cheers."

"We leave at seven tomorrow," he said.

"I'll be up all night preparing a damn good speech."

Choji took a long sip of his soda. "Don't tell her I said this, but she had to hear the truth of the matter badly. She and Sakura hadn't talked for three months now, and it was a big surprise that they didn't kill each other during the surprise party. I'm sure it was because Sakura was also mad that Ino's been sleeping around with that guy."

"It's unlike Ino."

"Has been moody and secretive too, these past months."

I stepped outside and closed the door. We leaned on the wall, drinking our beverage. I wished these were beer instead. "You care a lot about her."

Choji looked hard at me. "Shouldn't I? I mean, since Asuma's gone, we've got only ourselves to look after one another. And it's not like we're still in the same missions."

I pressed my head against the wall and observed the flicking of the lamppost. It cast an orange glow on the street – orange like the sunset behind Ino while she cried. The ambiance constructed an illusion of two, separate worlds where one was the heavens, lonesome in its own darkness, and the other, a street of eternal sunset.

"You're not the least bit angry at me, Choji?"

"Worried, mostly."

"I'm…better," I said. "Sorry for making you worry. I'll tell you when I'm ready, okay?"

"Sure. I know you will." He fished in his pockets and threw me a candy. "Remember that? You used to buy that for me whenever those bullies at school call me fat. It was the only thing you could afford at that age."

I turned the tiny, red and white ball on my palm. "I'm surprised they still produce this."

"That's the last piece."

"No way."

"It doesn't sell anymore, so they're closing. I'm lucky to have found it on my way home from Ino's."

I removed the wrapper and tossed it in my mouth. "She's not fond of candies, is she?"

"She doesn't hate you," he muttered. "Deep inside, I think she just wished you confronted her more nicely. Women are like that."

"Women are like that," I agreed.

The next day came too early for me. I showered, dressed myself in a white tunic and black trousers, and told mum that I was going to Ino's to apologize. Shikaku gave me a worried glance from his newspaper and reminded me that we had an appointment with the Hokage at eight.

I smiled at him and left.

My sprain didn't throb while I walked the streets. A pinch or two in my leg forced me to slow down, but other than that, I felt fine. I reminisced on the times before my injury, on the times when all I grumbled about were the deductions on my salary because of Naruto's misdoings, and my displeasure at having to accompany Team Seven in the nearing future.

I compared this walk to my previous ones and concluded that this was different. My motives were less selfish, and my strides were more intentional. The strangers around no longer morphed into the mockers I expected them to be. They passed me by, never noticing the difference.

I was an ordinary citizen like you now.

The sign on the door of the flower shop read 'closed'. Peering inside, I saw nothing but an empty counter and withering plants. My stomach twisted, and I could not begin to think how Ino could let her precious garden die.

I considered going to the backdoor and calling her name, but she would only curse me and travel the roofs to avoid me. The most practical solution was to remain where I stood and wait patiently. Ino always came out through the shop, and when she sees me, she would either smack me or knee me where it hurts most. Still, I would get the opportunity to talk to her. That was all I needed.

An empty crate near the alley provided a comfortable place to sit on. As I was focusing my chakra on the tip of my forefinger, a lady with yellow, braided hair stopped to study the flower shop, checked the sheet of paper in her hands, and continued walking the remained of the street.

Later, Konohamaru marched the street with an ugly, completely ignoring me.

I formed a seal and clasped my hands together. My shadow wobbled.

The lady was standing in front of the shop again, scowling, and shoved the sheet of paper in her skirt's pocket.

I sighed. "The owner ought to be a little grumpy today, so why don't I take your order and relay it to her instead, miss?

The lady shifted her gaze to me slowly. "How old is Mr. Asuma Sarutobi?"

"Excuse me?

"Because the last time I saw his picture, which was also the first time, I estimated he was only around thirty-five or forty." She adjusted her backpack and raised her eyebrows.

I stood, and I realized she is short. "How is that relevant?"

She smuggled out the paper in her pocket and waved it in the air. "Because I assumed Mr. Sarutobi's student, whose address a shady boy in glasses noted for me, would be a lot…younger."

" …What made you think otherwise?

She squinted her eyes as though she just saw through a trick I was pulling on her. "You just described Mr. Sarutobi's student as grumpy."

"An infant can be grumpy."

"Don't you know that you only use that adjective on aged people?" She threw her hands on her hips. "It's like coffee and cream, or apple and chocolate."

"Apple and chocolate?

"Some people like it."

I scratched the back of my head, suddenly irritated. "What business do you have with one of Asuma's students anyway, huh?"

The chimes on the shop door rang, and I jerked around. Ino gripped the doorframe and did not let go when she saw me.

I was caught off guard. There was no right beginning to the apology she deserved. Sweat moistened my palm, and I could not stop shifting my weight from one leg to the other.

Ino took out her keys and locked the door. "If you want my forgiveness, you better start moving your mouth."

Through the corner of my eye, I noticed the lady inching backwards to give Ino and I privacy.

I kneaded my knuckles on my chest to sooth myself. "I affirm your accusation yesterday afternoon; I am an asshole, and I am deeply sorry for my nature."

Ino tightened the buckle of her chuunin vest and scoffed. "You think what I want to hear from you is some confirmation that I'm right and you're wrong?"

"Ino…"

"You better be back to normal when Choji and I return home from this mission, Shikamaru." She bumped my shoulder with her own and disappeared. The thudding overhead told me she was moving southward through the roofs.

The lady in braids slogged to the middle of the road and crouched. She tipped her head back to watch Ino vanish in the distance.

This girl was as peculiar as Ino in her puberty. There was an air about her that was so childish that I was led to assume she came here on a wit to play a prank, but then the depth of her gaze on the neighboring roofs proved otherwise. Serious contemplation played in her visage, obliging me to ask what she was doing.

She ascended slowly, clutching her thighs to keep her balance. "I forgot to rationalize," she answered. "Mr. Sarutobi is a shinobi, and so his student, whom I am seeking, must also be a shinobi. A kunoichi at that! I feel so stupid."

"That would make me feel stupid too."

"That's incredible consolation." She flipped her thumb up. "You just made me into a better person."

Unconsciously, I squeezed the shoulder Ino bumped, and I recognized my own bitterness. This wasn't right. I couldn't apologize for venting on my teammates and continue mocking the people who meant less to me. I was still a shinobi, and my duty was to serve these people in any way I could.

"I'm one of his students, so unless it's Ino Yamanaka you're specifically pursuing, then I think I can help," I said.

The girl gawked. "Unbelievable. Why couldn't you have just told me that in the beginning?"

"I was estimating what you can possibly want from Asuma's students."

"What have you estimated thus far?"

I noted the piercing on the upper curve of her right ear and how this was a contrast to her tidy hairdo and plain clothes of black skirt, green sweater, and yellow scarf. "A frustrated artist living on her own without a definite plan for her future or money enough to plan. You're an optimist despite being orphaned, and my best guess is that Asuma was a customer in the past whose monthly installment suddenly stopped coming, and now you're hunting down his students for the money he still owes you."

Her eyes lingered on mine for several, quiet moments. Her face remained bare of neither affirmation nor contradiction to my hypothesis, puzzling me of her identity. Uncertainty consumed me, and as I was about to label her as a threat, she said, "I am an artist living on my own without any definite plan for my future, but it isn't because I have no money to back any plan or dream I have for myself. I am more often an optimist, yes, but fortunately, I have very rarely despaired from the loss of a loved one. I come from a rather large family with members who do not die unless you feed them rat poison."

She slipped the bag's strap off her shoulder and swung it to her stomach. Extracting an envelope from the front pocket, she approached me and waved a check in front of my face. "About Mr. Asuma Sarutobi, he doesn't owe me anything. To be honest, I haven't heard of him until this check arrived in my mail. Now, if you may, can you please tell me why your master left a hundred thousand yen to my name?"


	5. Chapter 4

w

**Smoke To My Eyes**

**By Liberty SleepStorm**

**Summary: **Shikamaru is losing his grip on his life, and Lady Tsunade gives him the option of whether to keep holding on or to let go. He remains uncertain between making the good choice and the right choice until he meets a person with an even scewed up life who, along the way, clarifies his path for him. And it's all thanks to Asuma and the hundred thousand yen check he left her.

**Chapter Four**

We stood outside the bank.

The girl tiptoed and leaned her forehead on the glass door. "It's so…pathetically empty."

Her choice of words made me scoff. "We're pathetic for forgetting it's a holiday. It's the twenty-third – explains why the people are out decorating their houses."

She turned her head to see me. "I'm from Konoha by the way; I'm pretty aware of the Freedom Festival."

I shrugged. "Just making sure."

She breathed on the glass and drew a question mark. "It's all right. I'm used to people mistaking me for a con artist, or a strip club waitress."

I glimpsed her appearance again and arched my brow. "You look pretty…normal," I said. "Although, aren't the strippers also the waitresses?"

She laughed. "No, the strippers are the dish. Obviously, you haven't been to a strip club."

"Haven't got the time to waste, miss."

"Yeah, you look like a busy man." She frowned at the check and slipped it inside the envelope. Hitting it back and forth her left hand, she put on a pout and said, "You want to hear something more pathetic? You haven't offered to bring me to this master of yours so I can just ask him directly instead of plead with the bank to consider this check a mistake."

The muscles of my shoulders stiffened, and I cast my eyes on my slippers. I wondered why I didn't wear proper shoes despite my appointment with the Hokage. I checked my watch. "I'm due to leave soon."

"Great!" she bit the cap off her pen and posed to write on her palm. "What's his address?"

I blinked at her. "Who?"

"Mr. Asuma Sarutobi."

I balled my fist and cleared my throat. "He's dead."

The girl's lips parted slowly, and she dropped the cap to the ground. She glanced down her palm.

This was what I hated about revealing his death to strangers. The fastest questions out of their mouths were one of the five W's, and upon answering, would immediately follow it with 'how'. In her case, she didn't even make a sound, which was a lot worse, because the only person I've encountered who reacted this way was Kurenai, and a woman's silence was often just a preparation for her loudest and saddest whimpers.

Unfortunately, I was not in the mood to console anybody right now.

"Thank you," she said as she tucked the envelope in the front pocket of her backpack and gripped the zipper. She snapped her head up and nodded. "I mean, I am sorry for your loss, but you've probably had too many people feeling sorry for you – " the zipper caught the corner of the envelope, so she had to pull it back and pluck the envelope out. " – not that condolences are bad, but what I'm trying to say is I'm grateful that you were so accommodating to an absolute stranger like myself despite…my reminding you of your loss. So I guess I'll be on my way now." She put out her hand. "Will you be fine on your own, mister ninja?"

I put my hand on my hip and shift my weight to my good leg. Ninja. The seconds ticked in my ears, and too many thoughts occupy my brain at once that a headache ensues.

Losing my job as a Hidden-Leaf shinobi discredited Asuma both as my friend and as my master. The energy he exerted on honing my skills would be for nothing. I wasted a good amount of his short time on earth. He was probably watching me right now, giving me the finger for being a dastard.

Would he hate me less if I died on the table, with my innards exposed to the best medics in the Fire Country, and my heart attempting to beat again?

The girl flung her hand behind her and nods. "You don't do handshakes. Understood. It's okay. Goodbye, then."

I shuddered, and I hollered, "Wait. What?"

She turned around. "Excuse me?"

"What are you doing?"

"…I intend to go to work."

"No, I mean, what about the check?"

"As planned," she answered. "I'll go to the bank tomorrow and return it."

A group of carpenters shouldering logs yelled at me to move aside. I jogged towards the girl and pulled her further under the shade of the bank's roof to avoid getting hit by the log. "You no longer want to know why he gave you a hundred thousand yen?"

She rubbed her neck and frowned. "Your kunoichi teammate is out on a mission, and as you said earlier, you should be leaving, and so do I. Besides, you don't exactly seem…okay yet with tackling anything related to him. I'd hate to cause you more grief, hence I'm heading to work as planned. Goodbye."

I stretched out my hand. "You're too assuming about my foul disposition. I'm Shikamaru Nara. As his student, I at least owe you a name to pursue if ever you want clarification on that mysterious check."

"Yukari Sugita." She shook my hand. "And whatever it is that's causing your 'foul disposition', I hope it drifts fast."

"Yuri!"

We turn to our left simultaneously, and spotted a man leaning on a lamppost at the mouth of the main road. He donned black slacks, a blue tunic and a stripped necktie – an outfit I saw common to the inhabitants of the southern district. He waved his hand in the air and the orange gleam in the cigarette between his fingers flickered.

She smiled at me. "See you around, Mr. Nara, sir."

"Yeah, likewise, Miss Sugita."

"Stalking me again, are you?" She yelled to the man. He held out the cigarette for her. She took a drag and puffed out smoke rings. They engaged in a conversation as they walked. They were too far away now for me to hear any of what she was saying.

The man glimpsed me while she talked.

He didn't look pleased that I was watching them, so I crossed the intersection and proceeded to the Hokage Tower.

I was thirty minutes late.

Shikaku scowled at me from where he sat in front of the Fifth's desk, while mum simply shook her head. It amused me slightly that even though mum was the one dying to lecture me about tardiness, she was able to suppress her flurry in order to create balance with Shikaku's temper.

Noticing Lady Tsunade's twitching brow, I realized it was not only dad's temper that mum was neutralizing, but also our Hokage's.

I sat myself on the middle chair and sighed. "Please pardon my being late, ma'am. I wasn't tolerating the thought of missing out on this, really."

Mum rubbed the length of my right arm. "Of course not. Do tell them you have a valid excuse, son."

I brushed my hair back as I debated the briefest and most effective way to answer without raising further questions. "It's very valid. I met a girl who was looking for Asuma. I told her he's dead."

Shikaku dropped his scowl. The Fifth's glare relaxed, but I did not think she would let go of the subject, and I thought right. She challenged me by asking: "Why is a girl looking for Asuma?"

"It's a long explanation and I don't have the answers, but basically, he wrote her a check, and she won't take the money."

"How much are we talking about?"

"One hundred thousand yen."

"A hundred yen?" Mum exclaimed.

"Hundred thousand," dad corrected her.

She gasped. "What a nice girl, and very rare in these times of hardship."

I leaned back and pressed my temple against my cheek. "Well, she's none of our business, so let's just talk about the real matter at hand."

"Did you help her, Shikamaru?" dad asked.

I turned my head to him. "Of course I did."

"Good kid," cooed the Fifth. "I suggest we leave the girl with her hundred thousand yen check and proceed to discuss our options for Shikamaru's future. Honestly, I am caught in a bit of a surprise with the three of you being in my office so soon. This progress on your part is admirable, Shikamaru. Good job."

"Thank you, ma'am."

She paused to look at me, stunned, and mumbled a 'your welcome' before pulling out a document from her dossier. "Let's start from the very beginning. Last October Ten, Shikamaru led a squad consisting of the chuunins Nanami Okamoto, Jin Shiibashi, and Toya Ichiki, to a retrieval mission." Sliding forward a photograph of a rusty, bronze mask, she explained, "This was the item to be retrieved: the feudal lord's family heirloom."

Mother took the picture. "You sent four chuunins to retrieve _this_?"

"Yoshino," warned dad.

I squeezed mum's hand and plucked the picture from her grasp. "It's not as useless as it looks."

"The mask contains a map," Lady Tsunade said. "We discovered that fact later on. The rust was expertly crafted to the mask, and only the most intelligent of men – one of them being your son – can work it out properly. Well, Shikamaru's squad successfully retrieved the mask from the robbers and was on their way to the feudal lord when…" She sighed. "Would you want to be the one to tell the story, Shikamaru?"

My back jerked, and I glimpsed their faces. Their seriousness daunted my confidence enough that I cringed. "Yeah, that-that part is a bit complicated. To cut it short, I made a bad call and my squad died."

Mum faked a chuckle. "I see. Maybe it is best that we skip that part?"

Lady Tsunade shook her head. "Your parents will always need an explanation."

"No." Mum rubbed my hand in hers and smiled at me. "I don't, Shikamaru. It's okay. You don't have to tell it if it makes you uncomfortable."

Shikaku shifted on his chair and crossed his legs. "I need to know what happened out there. "

"Why?" I scoffed. "Aren't you the one who always says we're supposed to be more concerned for the present than for the past?"

"You were a group consisting of four, excellent chuunins," he grumbled. "Unless your bad call instructed your teammates to trust the robbers and to glide to their respective guillotines, the outcome of your mission must mean your opponents weren't just a band of robbers."

I leapt to my feet and opened my mouth to counter his mocking, but the Fifth shouted, "It was my fault!"

Mum took my hesitation as a chance to squeeze herself between Shikaku and I. "Calm down, son. We're not here to fight."

Lady Tsunade stood. "It was my fault, Shikaku, Yoshino. The feudal lord sent me a personal letter containing the narrative on how the mask was stolen from them in the first place. His daughter is an intelligent girl, and she had tracked down a traitor among their guards. She made him confess of the attack the robbers were to make on the feudal lord's household the following night, and knowing they were not going to survive, nor did they have time enough to seek aid from Konoha, she stole the mask herself and pursued the robbers. She later identified the leader as the rogue sannin from the Cloud, Hideki, who escaped exile in an island nine years ago. I-I disregarded the letter during my research on this mission and declared this a B class mission. Shikamaru figured that returning the mask to the feudal lord will only cause them to be slaughtered, so he…he fought them instead."

Mum put her hand on my cheek. I held her wrist. "I had a plan, you know," I said. "It wasn't supposed to end in that battle. We were supposed to act as prisoners and lead them to the destination of the map. We were stalling until someone from Konoha realized whom we were up against and took the feudal lord and his entire household into safety, but Hideki was not one to be fooled. H-H-Hideki lined Nanami, Toya, and Jin in front of me, made them kneel, and sliced their throats so slowly that-that each of them h-had time to cry out." I pressed mum's hand against my skin, and I shut my eyes. I swallowed, but the tang of iron would not leave the roof of my mouth.

"You don't have to continue," whispered mum.

"He f-frees me…rem-removes my shackles, and then –and then he tells me to run as fast as I can."

Mum's hand descended to my neck and she tapped her fingers on my nape. "…You made it to Konoha, didn't you? An ANBU delivered you to the hospital, and here we are. That's how the story ended, right? The story's over..." she pursed her lips and turned to the Hokage. "We've covered the events of the mission well. Our options for rehabilitation and alternative careers can be tackled another time, when my son isn't cornered like a dog."

I stepped back and let go of her hand. "I'll take the surgery."

Shikaku perked. "What?"

"There's nothing else to discuss, no options to consider…" I found the view of Konoha from this height a beautiful distraction, so I kept my eyes fixed on it while my mouth moved on its own. "I have the list of drugs to take and the schedule of check-ups. The rehabilitation…it sounds good to me. I guess all we have to decide now is the date of the surgery. When are you ready, Lady Tsunade?"

Mum stood in front of me, blocking my view of the Hokage. "Shikamaru! You're not sure of that!"

"Why do you suddenly want to take the surgery?" said Lady Tsunade.

Asuma. I was already a dastard; I would not become a thief by robbing him of the time and attention he gave me so that one day, like him, I may become a noble shinobi. I looked the Hokage in the eyes. "Don't I have the right to try?"

Mother trembled. She slapped me across the face and stomped out of the office.

Shikaku rose to his feet slowly and bowed to the Hokage. "Pardon the behavior of my family, milady. This is a tough time for my wife, especially."

"Nothing is taken as an offense."

"Thank you."

"I must set another appointment, whether we like it or not."

"Of course. My son is not fit to decide this very moment."

I laughed, louder and louder. They stared at me, and I waved them off. "Sorry, it's just that you can always tell whether I'm fit for this or fit for that, dad."

He straightened up. He would not look at me. "I'm your father."

"Yeah, that plus you base my being fit on your own selfish decisions," I blurted. "I'm fuckin' fit when you agree, and I'm a heap of talking trash when you don't. C'mon, dad, just admit that deep inside, you also want me to take this tiny little chance of getting back on track through this surgery. Aren't I your only son? It's such a waste if I simply get the Hokage to trial, leach money from our village treasury, and enjoy my retirement. At least, if I die trying, you can tell your drinking mates that your only son would rather die trying than live the rest of his life outside military service. Oh, what-"

"Enough!" Lady Tsunade boomed. "Enough from you! Do you hear yourself, Shikamaru? Do you hear yourself?"

"Let him be," Shikaku muttered, which shut us all up. He lifted my chair aside and said, "He intends to leave this instant, anyway. Please let him be."

I gawked at dad, wide-eyed and unblinking. This wasn't him. My real dad would have punched me by now, not assisting my escape from further debilitation.

"Shikamaru," he hissed. "You are leaving the office and heading home, are you not?"

This wasn't my father. I reached for his collars, grabbed them, but I could not spit out the insult cooking on my tongue. My feet slid sideways, and they forced the rest of my body to go with them as they walked out the door.

I could believe I just said everything I did. No anger and suspicion were meant to escape the confines of my brain. Mum never confessed dad's anguish so I could use it against him. In fact, he was never supposed to find out I hated him for standing up for me.

This one time, he should have acted the role granted him the day he married mum, and the day I was born.

He was supposed to beat me up and drag me to the right path, not allow me to dawdle at my crossroads.

"Counseling." I heard the Hokage shout. It was either her voice or something she threw that caused the crimson, double doors I was leaning on to vibrate and force me to trot away.

The word stirred more laughter in my gut as I tackled the hallway blindly.

Counseling had been the second thing they put me through after waking up in the hospital. Mr. Toriumi had been very gentle and considerate with his questions, permitting me to face my trauma in a pace that didn't ignite nightmares in my slumber.

His evaluation of my psychology after my countless trips back to the interrogation room declared I was stable, but he was not to blame that he was correct only until Lady Tsunade said I might never be a shinobi again.

I stopped walking down the spiral staircase leading out of the tower. The wind carried me to the edge, and I peered down. A fall from this height would permanently kill me. Physical death could put an end to this misery of mine.

There must be a reason dad wasn't shoving his fist on my face.

"He knows," I uttered to myself. My toes dangled past the edge, and I lifted my arms to tease fate.

Shikaku knew that mum was wrong. The story didn't end when Hideki ordered me to run as fast as I could. He didn't let me run back to Konoha unharmed like I hoped he initially intended to.

Between the time I ran and the time I did make it back home, something else happened, and all I could really recall now was that I returned to Konoha a broken man.

I was more broken than medicine could measure.

The wind died from the South. A new wind blew from the North, and I was shoved backwards until I hit the wall. I smacked my head for being too much of a coward to go over the edge, and then I decided it best to go home.

Mum ignored me when I announced my arrival, so I didn't attempt an apology or any conversation when I passed her in the living room. I noticed a hammer sitting beside her on the couch while she knitted. Logic couldn't explain what part of crafting a scarf needed hammering in the process, hence I hastened to my room in fear that it was there in case she felt the urge to throw something fatal at me.

Once on the second floor, the note nailed to my door clarified my hammer-dilemma.

I plucked out the note and read it.

It read: clean your room.

I crumpled the paper and shoved the door open with my head. "What a drag…"

I hated cleaning more than taking the mandatory assessment exams. Most of the battle tactics used in those exams were repetitive, requiring only the practiced motions of my body and little effort from my intellect. Cleaning, on the other hand, required a lot of decision making which mum, after seeing my finished product, would lecture me on which went more properly where.

Scooping up used clothes with my foot, I caught them in my arms. I was building a mountain by the time I had rounded the perimeter of my room. Stuffing them in a laundry bag, I hauled it over my shoulder along with two garbage bags and slogged downstairs.

Mum exited the living room then, and without so much as a glance, she picked up the laundry bag and carried it with her to our laundry room.

I knotted the garbage bags before following her inside the room.

She looked up from her pocket-novel, finally. "Yes?"

I scratched my chin as I searched for neutral words to deliver my message. Finding nothing, I settled for the good old 'I'm sorry' and added, "I wasn't myself."

"They were bullying you into doing unnecessary things," she said.

I nodded. "Yeah…well, thanks for…yeah, for defending me, mum."

"Where's your father?"

I cast my eyes down. "Working, I guess."

"When's the next appointment?"

"…Soon, I expect," I said. "Mum?"

"Yes, Shikamaru?"

"Dad isn't…he doesn't seem mad at me somehow."

She closed her book. "He isn't."

"Did he tell you anything before today?"

"About what, Shikamaru?"

"About my mission," I said. "He must have taken a peek at the report I wrote beforehand, so I was wondering why he…you know…wanted to hear the story out of my mouth."

Mum placed her book on top of the overturned laundry basket. "What are you really trying to ask me, Shikamaru?"

I ran my hand across my chin and stopped when I realized this was what Shikaku did whenever he had to think of a solution fast. "Does he think I lied?"

"In your story or in your report?"

"In both."

"Well, are they the same?"

"Of course they are."

"There's something you're not telling me," she said. "I don't know if your dad thinks so too if he did sneak a peek at your report, but I don't need to do that to be sure that you're hiding-"

"I'm not hiding anything, mum." I gripped the doorknob and cherished the bite of cold metal. "I don't want you to think those things, that's why I'm asking. Mum? I…I'm leaving the house."

"What?"

I soldiered inside the room and took her hands in mine. She was so small. "Mum, listen to me, please. I can't stay in the same place as dad-"

"Shikamaru-"

"-I can't!"

She gasped, teary-eyed, and I regretted raising my voice at her.

"Mum," I mumbled. "I'm sorry. I need time to think, and I can't do it here. You'll say otherwise, but I know I'm hurting you and dad with the way I'm acting now. So I need to live in a space of my own for a little while to sort things out. Don't worry, I can't do anything funny; the Hokage had an ANBU watch over me."

She retreated from me and ripped open the bag of laundry soap. "Fine. Go. Just be careful."

"Mum,"

"Go."

I walked out the room and closed the door. By the time I finished packing and was carrying my travel bag across the hall, mum had already finished crying was then breaking things inside the laundry room.

My most practical option for the night was to stay at a hotel close to the main road. The noise of the festival would spare me from my own evil thoughts and help me survive the night. In the morning, I would go hunt for a cheap apartment.

Once inside my hotel room, I stripped off my clothes and entered the shower. The hot water slithering down my body gave me the illusion that I was being cleansed. I sat on the tiles and stared at the water swirling into the drain.

I may have fallen asleep, because when my eyes regained conscious sight, I was already lying down, and the fireworks were booming outside. Was this due to the abnormal distribution of chemicals in my brain? Was I clinically depressed? Would there be more of these episodes in the future? I could be walking home and find myself drowning in the river next, on my way to join the weapons I used to own.

I dressed myself in a white tunic, black pants, and leather shoes. There was no way I could last through the night alone. There was a chance I might bump into Nobutoshi in the Southern District, but I could care less. The perfect distractions existed in the South, and tonight, my job was to capture them.

The main road of Konoha burst with color and laughter. Nearly everyone in attendance wore their traditional clothes no matter how hot could get in the middle of these crowds. Children kept on bumping my injured leg, so I had to bite my lower lip to suppress the urge to curse them aloud.

I resorted to tapping people's legs with my cane for them to make way for them, and surprisingly, it worked.

Many of my colleagues called out to me. I pretended not to hear them and continued walking with my head down. I couldn't hang out with them anymore. They were ninjas and I wasn't. I was a failure, and I would prove that by going to the South.

"Geez!" A woman yelled behind me. "If keep up that pace, you'll grow a shell on your back! Fuckin' turtle!"

I whipped around and circled my hand around her neck. "Fucking what?"

She gasped and seized my wrist, nearly dropping the large platter balanced on her head. "Mr. Nara?"

I loosened my hold on her. "Miss Sugita?"

She rolled her eyes. "What the fuck? Why walk like a freakin' turtle?"

"A turtle is eternally better than a bitch."

"You sure about that?" She motioned to the crowd behind her. "This is _your_ fault. Would you mind helping the traffic by staying on the side?"

The onlookers threw me annoyed looks. I limped to the side and swallowed my shame.

Yukari Sugita tugged at my sleeve. "You're right, I'm a bitch," she shouted above the music of the nearby karaoke store. "I'm sorry, but you _are_ a turtle."

"I guess."

"Where are you going?"

"I should be the one asking you that." I motioned to the huge platter on top of her head.

Yukari held it with one hand and showed me her right palm. "I'm delivering it to a woman living at this address. Mind escorting me? I won't make it back to the South if waste another hour getting lost here."

I hoisted her hand towards the light. "I know this address," I said. "What did the woman said her name was?"

"Kurenai something. I'm not so good with names."

I stared at the words and numbers inked across her palm. "Did she ask for you, specifically?"

Yukari yanked her hand away from me. "What is this all about?"

"Did she?"

"Yeah."

"C'mon." I took the platter from her and transferred it to my head. "We'll get there faster if this stopped bumping other people. You call me a turtle but you're the one who looks the part."

She punched my shoulder. "I'm short – so what? At least I'm not shooing people using a cane."

"I'm injured."

She pulled me to a halt. I looked down at her. "What now? We're stopping the crowd again."

Yukari glanced at her kimono and furrowed her brows. "Does this woman have a…husband?"

"She…" I adjusted the platter on my head. "She used to. He died. Why?"

"Oh no."

"What?"

"What's the name of her husband?"

"Why does it matter if she has a husband?" I stepped closer to her to let someone behind me pass, and then I realized the motive behind her frown. "C'mon, really? You have affairs with married men?"

She folded her arms against her chest. "Just tell me who he is!"

I froze. No, she couldn't have had an affair with Asuma. She said she had never heard of him until the check arrived at her doorstep. I grabbed her elbow and prodded her to the direction of Kurenai's house. "_You little_…No worries, Kurenai's not going to injure you. I'm sure Asuma wouldn't have looked twice at a dwarf like you, more so cheat on Kurenai for you."

"Then what is it?"

"It's the check," I said. "You might finally get your explanation."

Judging by her coordination, I figured she must have been relieved to know she wasn't getting butchered for her crimes. I wished I was right. Kurenai was a pregnant woman, but she was still a kunoichi.

There was no chance this chick would survive a kunoichi's wrath.


End file.
